


Say I'm Better

by AlexanderPeterson



Category: Hitman: Agent 47 (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Drugging, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild torture, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4730717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexanderPeterson/pseuds/AlexanderPeterson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John doesn't take being beaten in a fight very lightly and he takes it out on 47.<br/>(no real movie spoilers, just bits of fights mentioned.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say I'm Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SailorSage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorSage/gifts).



> I have no excuse for this. I'm also not sorry at all.  
> Fic trade with MichieMurder. Go check out her side too.
> 
> “Say it. Say that I'm better than you.”

XOXO

 

Mundane. Practical.  _Boring_ . That's what John's life had become. Just a series of tasks, actions to keep him alive. Nothing thrilled him anymore. Not until he had been sent to find Katia. Not until he had seen the Agent tailing her. Truth be told he loved running from the man. And chasing him. It was a thrill to see the lethal precision in his movements and the grace in his step when he dodged a bullet. There were few things in the world better than watching an Agent work and it was a shame that he had to kill this one.

The fights with 47 were a thing of beauty.  _He_ was a thing of beauty. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the fire in his eyes that hid behind a cool exterior, the rough grunts and breathing that was ever so slightly labored when they were tanged together, grasping at suit jackets and throwing hard, close punches. But then there was the panic. Whenever he had the upper-hand, John could see a flash of something in 47's eyes. Not quite fear but something close. Desperation. The desperate scramble to regain his footing, grabbing at the front of John's jacket, trying to pull him back down to his level.

John watched with a pleased smirk, leaning over 47 while he tried to stand.

“Say it.” He grinned, kneeling down and pressing his gun to 47's temple. “Say that I'm better than you. Say it!” There it was. There was the fury he had been hoping for. The pang of heat that shot through his core was a little unexpected, but not unwelcome. “You know I am. And I always will be.” John leaned in closer, his breath brushing over 47's ear.

 

xoxo

 

John sat in a hotel room in Singapore several days later, running his fingers back through his hair, trying to piece together the rest of the events from the warehouse. The last thing he remembered was Katia firing a shot past his ear. He tugged at his hair in frustration and huffed out an aggravated breath. He would find that smug bastard 47 and show him once and for all who was better than who.

 

xoxo

 

John was starting to get twitchy. It had been weeks since his last confrontation with 47 and he often found himself thinking about their fights. The gasps that would slip out when he landed a punch to the Agent's gut. Those memories sent heat pooling in his gut and he always found his trousers a bit tighter than they had been before. It was easy for him to deal with his... urges... by himself but it was getting tedious. Everything was becoming tedious again. Mundane. Practical. _Boring._ If he had to fuck his hand one more time, John was going to go insane. He had been planning his next move carefully. It wouldn't be easy to get 47 to his apartment without causing major damage to either the Agent, himself, or the city, and he wasn't about to do that. He would either have to lure the other man to him or he would have to find a way to incapacitate him. The later would be more difficult and infinitely more dangerous but it would be the only way to make sure he had 47 exactly where he wanted him. So that's where John started. With a list of different poisons that weren't _quite_ lethal but would be enough to render the Agent unconscious long enough to get him to a secluded place. Preferably somewhere soundproof. The thought of hearing 47 screaming set John on edge and his teeth dug into his lower lip almost painfully. He couldn't bare to wait one more day to have 47 to himself. He had to move _now_ or he'd just end up torturing himself.

 

xoxo

 

Finding 47 again was easy. Easier than John would have liked. It was almost annoying. Like the Agent wasn't even trying to stay under the radar anymore. Infuriating. That's what this whole situation was. Finding him before was like finding a needle in a haystack but now it was almost like the Agent had a neon sign attached to him. Now that he had found his mark, John put the rest of his plan in place. He paid a few crooked cops to watch an empty warehouse near the docks to make sure he wasn't disturbed and threatened to kill their families slowly while they watched if they so much as looked at him when he came back or dared to take a peek inside.

He set up his little play room with almost loving hands, humming and smirking with each turn of a wrench and every knot he tied. He pulled on a pair of leather gloves as he set up a long stainless steel table and started laying out various tools, toys and gags. It was going to be a long night and he wanted every bit to be perfect.

 

xoxo

 

47 sat with his hands folded neatly in his lap in a hotel room, his thumb tapping out a slow beat that only he could hear. Katia had gone off on her own weeks ago and he often found himself wondering about her. If she was eating enough, if she was staying off the grid, if she had a safe place to stay. He had called her once and asked her all these things and she had laughed and asked if he was worried about her. She had to explain worry to him but when she had, 47 realized that he was indeed, worried about the girl that he had kept safe, that had kept _him_ safe. It was a strange but not unwelcome feeling. Better than nothing.

There were footsteps outside his door but 47 didn't pay them much mind. There were always footsteps in a hotel. Usually another guest, sometimes staff. There was something almost familiar in the way the footsteps fell though, a rhythm that he couldn't describe. It wasn't until they stopped right outside his door that 47 realized who was out there and instinct kicked in. _Fuck_.

Two options. Stay and fight, or the window. 47 could hear the lock being fiddled with from the outside and went for the window, pulling his suit jacket from its hanger.

“I bolted it from the outside last night.” 47 whipped around, drawing his gun and aiming straight between John's eyes. “Now, you and I both know that wont do any good 47. I just came to talk.” John held up a bottle of scotch with a red ribbon tied around the neck. “Drink?” He asked over his shoulder as he turned toward the kitchenette and pulled two glasses from the counter. 47 kept his gun trained on John but all he did was pour the scotch and hold a glass out to him. “Don't be rude.” He huffed. “It's a peace offering. A gift from one man to another. An acknowledgement of your skill.” 47 tightened his grip on the pistol but lowered it, narrowing his eyes as he took the glass. John nodded and sat down, crossing his legs at the knee and sipping his scotch with a small smirk tilting the corners of his lips.

“What do you want?” 47 stayed standing, his shoulders squared as he looked down at the man that had tried to kill him more than once.

“Just to talk. I'm unarmed and everything.” 47 snorted and John smiled. “I guess that isn't entirely true though is it. Either way. I just wanted to check on you. And Katia.” 47 flinched. “How is the girl? She's proven more difficult to find than you Mr. 47.”

“She's found herself a new project I assume. Haven't seen or heard from her in weeks.”

“I see.” John hummed, his finger tracing the rim of his glass. “She is clever isn't she? More so than you and I, even.”

“I imagine so.” 47 took a seat opposite John and brought the glass of scotch to his nose, sniffing carefully, his eyes locked on the other man the whole time. He took a tentative sip when he didn't smell anything out of the ordinary, letting the drink rest on his tongue a moment before swallowing.

“I figured you'd have a taste for the finer things.” John uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, holding his drink loosely and watching 47 closely. His stare would have unnerved anyone else but 47 met his dark brown eyes easily. “Was I right?”

“It is very good.” 47 conceded, taking another sip. He refused to get comfortable with John in the room. There was no reason to trust him. “For someone that wanted to come here to talk, you aren't saying much.” John's lips twitched in a smile.

“I may not have been entirely honest with you.” 47 paused in taking his next sip. “I don't want to talk. At least... I don't want you to talk back.” 47 glanced at John's glass. It was just as full as when he had poured it. His chest tightened and his stomach churned.

“What did you do?”

“Are you scared?” There was a sick glee in John's eyes when 47 started gasping. “You look scared.”

“I'm... Not.” He hissed.

“Oh but I think you are. You're terrified. You know I've beaten you. I'm. Better. Than. You.” John drawled out each word and sat up straight when 47 stood and stumbled. “You can't even stand. Let alone hold your own gun. How do you think this is going to end 47?” The Agent fell back against the couch in the room and tried to make his fingers work well enough to hold his gun steady, but his arm fell against the cushions and his vision blurred.

“You wont...”

“I already have.” John stood and leaned over 47, one hand at the Agent's throat, the other resting on his knee. “You're going to come with me now. And you aren't going to fight.”

Despite the other man's size, John had no trouble lifting 47 off of the couch and walking him over to the door. He was just conscious enough to make it out of the hotel, a few people giving them strange looks.

“My friend here is pretty drunk and I don't want to leave him alone in the lobby.” He told the bellboy with a charming smile. “Would you mind pulling my car around for me?” The awkward, gangly teen took the keys and followed John's direction, finding the sleek black Audi and pulling it up to the door.

“Thank you.” John fumbled through his pocket for his wallet, fished out a twenty and slipped it into the boy's hand before readjusting his grip on 47 and half carrying, half walking him out to the car and laying him down in the back seat.

 

xoxo

 

47 groaned and struggled to open his eyes.

“Good morning.” John smirked. “I wouldn't try to move too much if I were you. You might hurt yourself.”

“The fuck..?” 47's words were slurred. “Where are we?”

“No need to worry about that.” John gave 47's cheek a few rough pats before grabbing his jaw and lifting his face. “This is nice. Having you all to myself. Having you under my thumb.” He touched this thumb to the Agent's lips and bit the inside of his cheek before letting 47's head fall back down, chin to his chest and eyes half lidded.

The Agent started wiggling his fingers and toes, realizing that his shoes and socks had been removed. He tried to move his arms and legs, which he found were also bare, but the thick leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles kept them in place.

“It's time you learned your place.” John turned his back to 47 and ran his gloved fingertips over the tools he had laid out on the table settling on a pounce wheel and running the small metal points along the palm of his hand, leaving small indents in the leather. “I want to see what you look like when you're in pain.” He smirked, walking back over to 47 slowly, turning the pounce wheel between his fingers. “Let's start you off small shall we? Just nice and slow. I want to see how long it takes to make you scream.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don't be like that.” John whined rolling the spiked wheel lightly down 47's chest. He barely flinched. “Nothing? Come on now, if it hurts you have to tell me or I'll just keep pressing harder.” John made good on his word and pressed the small points deeper into the Agent's skin, drawing a gasp from his pale lips. He repeated the motion, moving in closer and pressing his lips to 47's neck, smirking against his cool skin before sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave bruises. 47 grunted and arched his back. “I'll have you trained up like a proper whore soon enough.” John whispered, rolling the pounce wheel over 47's nipple lightly, making him squirm. “Can't wait to see you with your face pressed into my mattress and your ass in the air.”

“F-Fuck...” 47 gasped and tried again to free his wrists, wondering in the back of his fogged mind what the cuffs were really made of.

“Let's see what you can take, hmm?” John tucked his fingers under 47's chin and tilted his head up again, nipping at his lower lip. “Now this.” He chuckled, setting down the pounce wheel. “This is a special treat. But you'll only get it if you behave, understand?” 47 found himself craning his neck to see what John had in his hands despite his instincts telling him not to. The man was holding a long iron rod and had a smile that could have been mistaken as pleasant on his face. At the end of the rod, a thinner piece of iron had been twisted into a backwards signature. 47's eyes went wide. “You know exactly what this is don't you, Agent? It's a brand. And if you behave, you'll have my name burned into those pretty hips.” John touched the still cool metal to 47's hip bone and pressed in hard. “It'll look nice there don't you think?”

“You can't be serious.” 47 snorted. “This game of yours has gone too far John Smith. If you don't let me down right now I'll-”

“You'll what?” John scoffed. “You know you can't beat me. I've already proven that. You just need to admit it.” He shrugged. “If you admit it, I just might let you go now.” 47 narrowed his eyes. “Then again I might not.” He smirked. “So what do you say?” John stepped right up to 47 and looked him dead in the eye. “Will you admit that I'm better than you, Agent 47?”

 

XOXO

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well this was going to be one chapter but I'm a piece of shit so it's going to be two chapters.
> 
> As always, comments, kudos and bookmarks are greatly appreciated and you will receive my love forever!
> 
> Less Than Three and Blessings Be,  
> KayKatastr0phe


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